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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215623">ten things i hate about you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyGuest23/pseuds/TinyGuest23'>TinyGuest23</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i hate you in the most loving way [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Faberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:49:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyGuest23/pseuds/TinyGuest23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: 10 Things I hate about you Faberry style (au 3x14)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>i hate you in the most loving way [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ten things i hate about you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>Part 1</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate you"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You are in your car, outside the bridal shop, and Rachel sits in the passenger seat, still dressed in white, eyes not leaving yours.</p><p>Your knuckles clench hard and have turned white by the way you are clutching onto the steering wheel in desperation and fear. </p><p> </p><p>In the corner of your eye, you spot Santana arguing with one of the shop assistants, gesturing wildly. You silently thank the universe for having Santana as your friend.</p><p>You have no idea where that sudden impulse came from. To grab Rachel by her soft hand, holding on tight, after she told you not to attend her wedding, and storm out of the shop, only coming to a stop when you reach your car. With one move you flung the passenger door open and timidly begged the brunette to get inside your red VW Beetle.</p><p>She did. No questions asked. And that has to mean something, you think.</p><p> </p><p>There is a moment of stillness, where neither of you dares to speak and its stealing all the air around you, making it hard to breathe.</p><p>Rachel is the first to break the silence.</p><p>She tells you she should be mad at you for causing such a scene just before her wedding, but adds that she appreciates the drama of it and her words take you back to junior prom. Your hand still burns, stinging at the memory and you wonder if you will ever feel less guilty for what you've done that night. <em>(I am so sorry)</em></p><p>When you stay silent, she watches you and she questions you with her eyes, which is foreign to you, because she always follows with her words. Not this time.</p><p>Rachel reaches forward to catch a tear that you haven't noticed has fallen from your right eye, making its way down your hot cheek.</p><p> </p><p>That's when something in your brain snaps and you tell her that you hate her.</p><p> </p><p>In a way, it's the truth and in another way it's the biggest lie you've ever told. But it's the only way to do this, because you can't possibly voice the alternative to saying you hate her, can't say the other three words that would break you entirely, beyond repair.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, you feel like a broken doll stitched back to together, with a new nose and some pounds lighter.</p><p>You have scars that map your body and have scrapped your timeline of life into your skin. You never talk about them.</p><p>You don't talk about the sharp edge of a broken bottle of beer that inked your arm.</p><p>
  <em>(A cat scratched me when I was nine)</em>
</p><p>You don't talk about greedy hands and teeth that left scars on your inner thigh, not having vanished after two years of time.</p><p>
  <em>(It probably happened at cheer practice.)</em>
</p><p>You don't talk about cigarettes and blurry nights that left burn marks on your neck.</p><p>
  <em>(I burned myself with a curling iron a few months ago)</em>
</p><p>There are invisible scars, too. That no one sees. You don't talk about them either.</p><p>You've managed to stitch yourself back together every time and for once in life you are actually looking forward to a future that is filled with new experiences and a breath of fresh air, far away from where your inner demons hunt you in Lima, Ohio. You know if you speak the truth and lay down all your feelings, all your secrets, say those three words, there is a chance, a risk to break again. And you are scared that this time, there would be nothing left to fix.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'm sorry, what?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You see the way her eyes go wide and she doesn't hide the hurt behind her words. Your chest has tightened as you watch her brown eyes lose their spark in an instant as you realise the words have sunk into her mind. She masks her face a second after, not giving away what she's feeling. You think she would make a great actress. Rachel huffs in disbelief and her hand reaches for the door handle on her right to escape your car, escape you.</p><p> </p><p>You stop her, not by moving your hand over hers, even though you want to, but by laying out the truth, putting your heart on the line.</p><p><em>"Rachel", </em>you plead while hidden tears burn behind your eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate the way you sing in Glee"</em>
</p><p>You remember "Holding on" and your mash up of "Pretty" and "Unpretty". You remember her singing "You are the Only Exception" after you've asked Finn to get back together, for her, and how the only thing you wanted was to see her happy. You didn't know then, but you know now, that you've been falling for Rachel all this time, slowly, as she found a way into your heart that you thought was surrounded by bergs of ice.</p><p> </p><p><em>"And the way you</em> always<em> stare"</em></p><p>You remember looks across the hall, during Glee, at lunch. You remember eyes of anger, envy, and concern, eyes of trust and warmth.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate the way you dress in school"</em>
</p><p>You remember reindeer sweaters and blue pantsuits, and knee socks. If you've told a younger version of Quinn Fabray that you would fall for a girl that dressed like that she would've punched you in the face before throwing a slushy over your head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate it when you care"</em>
</p><p>You remember her coming after you. After Finn found out about the baby being Puck's, after Finn ruined your chance at becoming prom queen. You remember her stopping you from making a big mistake and ruining Beth's life by telling on Shelby.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate your awful attitude"</em>
</p><p>You remember her wanting every solo in Glee, playing unfair, begging for attention, bringing people down. You are not the only girl people call a bitch. But there is a difference. Rachel is a bit when she is believing in herself too much, you are a bitch when you don't believe in yourself at all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"And the moments you are kind"</em>
</p><p>You remember a soft hand brushing away your tears at junior prom and warm arms around your neck when you told her you got into Yale.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate you so much that it makes me sick"</em>
</p><p>You remember your heart crack when you told her she doesn't belong here, remember it shatter when she told you about Finn proposing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"It even makes me rhyme"</em>
</p><p>You have always liked poetry. It's your secret. You like to write. If you believed in yourself, like Rachel believes in herself, you would want to be a writer. Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate the way we talk in halls"</em>
</p><p>You remember moments of comfort, of advice.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate it when you try"</em>
</p><p>You remember her telling you to come back to glee, after your pregnancy was in the open, after losing your way and dying your hair pink.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate it when you make me smile"</em>
</p><p>You remember dance choreographies and laughs and practicing with the girls.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Even worse when you see me cry"</em>
</p><p>You remember a bench, and prom, and a piano. You remember wanting to hide your tears, but found you couldn't.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I hate the way you told him yes"</em>
</p><p>You remember her telling you first, of all people, you think that has to mean something. You remember her proudly announcing she said yes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"And the fact that you're so blind"</em>
</p><p>She never understood, not why you draw pornographic pictures in bathroom stalls, or you forced Sue Sylvester to give Glee a page in the year book, why you told her she doesn't belong in Lima and why you tried to make her understand that Finn was not the good guy if he couldn't let her go after her dreams. She doesn't know that you know Beth will turn out fine without you, her mother, because when you look at Rachel, you know she turned out to be this amazing person, too. Rachel has always thought it was about Finn, when it wasn't about Finn for a while now.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you"</em>
</p><p>You never have.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p><p>You mumble the words in your head.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You repeat them.</p><p>
  <em>I love you, Rachel.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>You are not brave enough to say them out loud.</p><p>You wait, patiently, as you let Rachel process everything. You know she needs to make the connections in her head, make sure this is not a joke.</p><p> </p><p><em>"Quinn", </em>Rachel whispers and then her arms are around you and you never want her to let go.</p><p>Your head is tugged into the crook of her head, between her chin and an exposed shoulder.</p><p>You can smell the faint scent of vanilla as her hair tickles parts of bare skin.</p><p>Rachel whimpers. I <em>don't know what to say."</em></p><p>Her voice sounds broken and you hate yourself for putting her through this, but you owe her the truth.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I am sorry."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rachel's lips brush your ear as she whispers.</p><p>Her arms are still wrapped around your shaking form. You forget to breathe as your lungs fail to keep oxygen inside of them.</p><p>She gives you a small smile and her eyes flicker, like she is apologising over and over again, before she gets out of your car and walks back to the shop.</p><p> </p><p>You don't look back and start the car.</p><p>You can feel your cheek tingling all the way home, where soft lips have left a feeling of warmth.</p><p> </p><p>It's not enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. Leave a comment to let me know what you think :) Part 2 is in the process!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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